The Case of the Missing Girls
by bemj11
Summary: One of Holmes' early cases working with Inspector Lestrade. The Inspector shows up with a riddle and three hours to find a missing girl.
1. Chapter 1

Inspector Lestrade absently thanked the landlady for showing him up, and I wondered if this were going to become a habit for the man.

I suppose it counted for something that he at least realized and was willing to admit that he could be out of his depth in his chosen profession. I was surprised he was back, however. Between the dressing down he had received from his superior for involving an amateur on that jewelry case, and the way he had taken offense when I pointed out how horribly he had managed things throughout the case, I had expected him not to be back.

Of course, I also hadn't expected him to pay me before he stormed off.

Something flashed in the small man's dark eyes; the insults were not forgotten, then. Absently I wondered what the difference had been between the insults I had thrown out when I had first met the man and the insults that had angered him so on our last encounter.

Lestrade straightened. "I have a case for you, if you're interested." He said, every bit the professional.

I wasn't certain I was. But then, I could certainly use the money-

"I won't be able to offer you the usual amount." He seemed embarrassed. "In fact, I can't really offer you enough to justify taking up your time."

I pondered this development, and wondered just how much he planned to offer.

He blurted the price he _could _pay; it wasn't even half a day's wages. I considered laughing at the man.

Lestrade fidgeted. "There's a girl gone missing, Mr. Holmes." He explained. "And I only have a few hours to find her before she goes the same way as the last three."

I was interested in spite of myself. I waited for him to say more.

The man looked hopeful. "Somebody kidnapped a young girl, about fourteen, Mr. Holmes. And she isn't the first. There have been three other cases of kidnapping. Each time a note has been left on the front door of the girls' homes. The notes contain some sort of riddle stating where the girls can be found, and the deadline for finding them. So far all we've managed to do is find three corpses the day after the deadlines."

The Inspector hesitated. "I'm not actually supposed to be down here, Mr. Holmes. I'm not supposed to 'encourage' you. But you seem to have more of a head for this sort of thing than I do, and I'm not about to stand by and let another girl die if I can do anything to stop it."

"Do you have the note?" I asked. Lestrade handed several over.

"The first is the one we received today." He explained. "But I wasn't certain if you would want to see the others as well.

"The note says you have twenty-four hours." I observed. "How long ago did the girl disappear?"

Lestrade slumped. "Twenty-one hours ago." He admitted.

I scowled at the man. "Why did you not come to me sooner?" I demanded, considering the riddle before me.

The man didn't answer, but did manage to turn bright red. I disregarded him for the moment and concentrated on the note.

I tried to ignore the fact that there were less than three hours left.

"The docks." I finally said. Lestrade blinked.

"Pardon?"

"She's at the docks." I said. Then I caught a glance at the time.

Had that much time really passed? Another thought struck me, and I sprang from my chair.

"The tide!" I exclaimed. Lestrade's eyes widened, and he paled. He was through the door and bolting down the stairs before I could start myself. I followed after him, ignoring my landlady as she screamed at us for disturbing the peace.

The little fellow was fast in spite of his foot, but I quickly caught up with him and soon threatened to overtake him. I reached the docks less than a minute ahead of him, and scanned the water below for some sign of her.

I heard the scream as Lestrade caught up with me, and realized she was beneath the pier on which I was standing. The scream was cut off as the water rose even higher.

The Inspector didn't hesitate, but shed his jacket in one fluid motion and launched himself over the side. I heard the splash a second later, and winced. These were not friendly waters. They carried refuse and filth and disease in them.

I waited impatiently, wondering what on earth to do now. Abruptly I heard another cry, and murmured assurances. Then I heard a shout.

"Mr. Holmes!" That was Lestrade.

"Here!" I shouted back.

"See if there's a rope or something you can toss over!" He wouldn't be able to fight the current, not with a panicking girl to worry about. I quickly found a rope, and secured it, and tossed the end over the edge.

I felt the rope pull tight, and a moment later heard him shout again. "Pull her up, Mr. Holmes!"

I obliged, and a few minutes later an arm appeared over the edge of the dock. I sprang forward and finished pulling the girl up. She was completely drenched, and shivering, and looked on the verge of going into shock.

Lestrade was not with her.

I threw the rope back over the edge, and again found myself battling gravity. My muscles strained, and my arms ached as I fought to pull the Inspector back up.

At last, he appeared, and dragged himself over the edge of the pier without my help. He lay sprawled on the pier for less than a second before he was up and speaking with the girl.

His steady questions calmed her, and his jacket helped cease her shivering. He barely seemed to notice that he was dripping wet himself, or that he was starting to shiver as well.

He led her away from the docks; I followed at a distance, certain I had been forgotten.

The man hailed a cab, and glared at the driver when he sniffed at the two of them and tried to refuse them.

"This girl nearly drowned." Lestrade informed the man sharply. "Her family is waiting for her at Scotland Yard, and every minute that passes is another minute they spend thinking she's dead. She needs to be returned to her family, and she needs to be properly taken care of."

The cabbie shifted uneasily. "Now look, Mister-"

"_Inspector_." Lestrade corrected, and the cabbie blanched.

"Come on, then." The man said. "I didn't know."

Lestrade helped the girl into the cab and climbed in behind her before turning back to me. "Coming?" He asked.

I didn't need to be asked twice.

Lestrade had given up trying to pretend he wasn't shivering by the time we reached Scotland Yard.

He climbed out, and helped the girl down. Then he turned and paid the cabbie before stalking towards the doors, leaving me to follow.

I caught up as the girl's mother flung her arms around her and held her tight, while her father stood there trying not to let his emotions get the better of him.

Lestrade suggested they get her home and taken care of _now_ before stomping off through the building, a trail of water in his wake. He hadn't even bothered to retrieve his jacket from the girl.

I followed him, receiving curious looks from those I didn't know and scornful glances from those I did. He stopped at what passed for their infirmary long enough to grab two blankets and throw one at me.

I realized then that I had managed to get rather wet myself, likely in helping them both up onto the pier.

* * *

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes does not belong to me.


	2. Chapter 2

I followed the man to his office. There he sat down at his desk, and waved me to a seat. After a moment, he spoke.

"Do you think he'll try again?" He asked.

I didn't have to ask. He wanted to know if there would be more victims. "Yes." I replied. "Your kidnapper will continue until he is caught."

Lestrade managed not to sigh. "I don't suppose you have any idea who it is."

"I have some clues as to his identity." I admitted. The Inspector blinked.

"You do?" He sounded hopeful. "Is there anything I can do-"

"If you had the reports from the first three girls, that might prove useful." I suggested. Lestrade winced, then straightened his shoulders.

"I'll get them for you." He said, and went to his door to order some hapless Constable to perform the task of obtaining the necessary papers, unless I was greatly mistaken.

He made his way back to his desk and sat huddled while we waited. I took the opportunity to exam the man's office.

I took in a desk, chair, and cabinet, presumably for files. There was a second chair for visitors, in which I was currently seated. A board on the wall behind the desk was covered with notes in what was unhdoubtedly some sort of shorthand. Maps decorated another wall. There were stacks of paper on the desk, along with a pencil and some sort of handbook; the desk was neat and clean and organized. There were no personal effects in the small office.

The Constable returned with the papers. Lestrade nodded. "Thank you, Thompson." He said as he handed the reports over to me. The Constable nodded, turned to leave, and hesitated in the doorway.

"Anything else, Inspector?" He asked. Lestrade shook his head.

"No, thank you." He replied briskly. The Constable nodded and left.

I looked through the reports. The whole investigation was a mess, poorly handled from the start. I noticed with some curiosity that Inspector Lestrade had not been the one in charge when these reports had been filed.

Well, at least that was something in his favor.

I looked up from the reports I was studying to see that the Inspector had rolled up his sleeves and turned his attention to one of the stacks of paperwork on his desk. I found myself watching as the man read through the print at the top of the paper with agonizing slowness, his brow furrowed as he concentrated.

Eventually he picked up a pencil, and began writing. He had neat handwriting that was easily legible as well as efficient; with nothing unnecessary or extra added to the strokes. His writing was, like his reading, painfully slow.

He looked up as he finished writing a sentence, and waited. I realized he had not been unaware of my scrutiny, but had chosen to ignore it up until this point. Now he was challenging me to either identify the murderer or ask for more information.

I did not know who the murderer was. I did, however, know where his next target would be taken from. I explained as much to Lestrade.

"All we have to do is catch him."

Lestrade was less than eager.

"I don't like the idea of letting a citizen unknowingly act as bait." He said uneasily. "It's dangerous."

"Would you rather _not_ be there to keep a young girl from being taken?" I demanded. "If you want a conviction, you'll have to catch him in the act!"

"Mr. Holmes, this is Scotland Yard. I am an Inspector. I _cannot-_"

"What if you had a volunteer?" The girl Lestrade had pulled from the water stood in the doorway, holding his jacket. "You forgot this, Mister." She added, and blushed.

Lestrade stood and walked over to the girl. He accepted his jacket solemnly. "Thank you."

"I could help." The girl said quickly as he turned back to me. "If it means that man will be stopped."

Lestrade was going to dismiss the offer. I cut him off. "Then be at the corner of Ashworth and Grantully this evening at sunset." I told her. "We will be hidden, waiting for him to show himself. When he approaches you, don't act suspicious. Let him try to kidnap you. Can you do that?"

The girl nodded. She was frightened, but determined. "Sunset. Tonight. I'll be there." She said, and darted out the door before she could lose her nerve and back out.

Lestrade was furious. "What do you think you're doing, Mr. Holmes?" He demanded.

I rewarded him with the scorn he deserved. "I am putting a stop to these killings, and putting the murderer in your hands, _Inspector_, and, I might add, for practically nothing in return." I retorted, rising from my chair. "I will see you tonight, Lestrade." I informed him before I turned and walked out of his office.

As I made my way out of Scotland Yard, I thought I heard someone utter the question, "Was that Sherlock Holmes?"

I didn't hear the reply.

* * *

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes does not belong to me.


	3. Chapter 3

The girl was in her place on time.

Lestrade was with me, in the shadows, in spite of his misgivings, a silent Constable shadowing him.

The three of us waited as dusk fell, watching.

The girl slowly began to make her way down the street with all the appearance of one who does not have enough sense not to linger on an empty street as darkness approached.

"Sir-" Lestrade silenced the Constable with a slight jerk of his head.

The Inspector had settled into a half crouch, ready to move at a second's notice, and was now completely still, his dark eyes intent on the scene before us. The Constable tried to follow his example, but was a restless sort, and had been told little of the nature of this watch.

Someone else was out. He was on the same side of the street as the girl, and walking towards her.

They met, and he stopped and tipped his hat to her. She curtsied, and he made a comment about the weather.

"Nice night." The girl agreed, and was doing an admirable job of hiding her terror. She had recognized the man.

He steeped closer, laid one hand on her arm, and with his other tilted her chin so that their eyes met.

He recognized her, and struck her with considerable force as I sprang forward from the shadows and towards them, Lestrade and the Constable right behind me.

I lunged towards the man. He simply sidestepped me, the stuck his foot out and sent me sprawling.

_Idiot_. I cursed myself as the murderer took the opportunity to run for it.

Lestrade went after him, the Constable hot on his heels. As I regained my feet Lestrade caught up with the man and tackled him.

The two were getting into it as the Constable caught up with them and lent a hand. Between the two of them they managed to subdue the murderer and slap a pair of darbies on him.

"Watch him, Adams." Lestrade said as they got to their feet. He left the Constable in charge of his man and returned to us.

"Alright, Mr. Holmes?" He asked as he knelt by the girl, a stricken look on his face.

"Fine." I replied coolly. I wondered that he hadn't taken the opportunity to point out that my mistake could have allowed our quarry to get away.

The girl was coming around, a fact which relieved Lestrade immensely. "Well done, Young Lady." He said as he helped her up. "That was a very brave thing you did there."

The girl blushed at the praise. "I was terrified." She confessed. "And he recognized me! Did we-?"

"We got him." Lestrade assured her. "Let's get you home.

Lestrade was embarrassed the next day as he paid me my pathetic fee, and rightly so. I accepted it without a word, and turned my attention back to my reading.

The next time Scotland Yard wanted my help, I would refuse. If they didn't think I was worth compensating for my time, I didn't see any reason to trouble myself with their dull and commonplace crimes.

If they had half a brain amongst them they wouldn't need my help anyway.

* * *

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes does not belong to me.


End file.
